


Mature

by persephades



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, F/M, Groping, Kink Meme, Loss of Virginity, Pining, Praise Kink, Smut, WTFfic, age gap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 19:58:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,462
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19280110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/persephades/pseuds/persephades
Summary: He looks over his shoulder and smirks. “Hey, Princess.” She leans against the counter while he stirs, and her heart skips a beat when he sets the wooden spoon to the side and turns to face her. His fingers tug at the hem of her lacy cami, a dark smile on his face. “This new?”“Yeah.”“Did you buy it to wear for a boyfriend?” he asks, and Clarke bites down on her bottom lip. His fingers trail up her stomach. It’s a featherlight touch, really. But when his middle finger grazes her nipple, her breath catches. “Or did you buy it so you could wear it for me?”For the Kink Meme prompt: 15 y/o clarke goes to slumber party at octavia’s house where bellamy is in charge and they end up fucking after the other girls fall asleep. bonus points for: daddy kink, praise kink, innocent!clarke, virgin!clarke, seductive!bellamy, the other girls teasing clarke for being attracted to bellamy, bellamy teasing clarke for the same





	Mature

**Author's Note:**

> Didn't quite work daddy kink in, but I think I checked all the other boxes.
> 
> Read the tags. You know what this is. Don't like, don't read.

“You girls need to keep it down,” Bellamy says as he makes his way down the stairs.

Clarke doesn’t mean to look back at him. After all, she knows that if any of the other girls catches her, she’ll get teased about it. But it happens anyway, and she catches his eye as he makes his way toward the kitchen. His eyes linger on her chest, probably noticing that Clarke is wearing the lacy cami she bought at Victoria’s Secret last time she went to the mall with Raven.

“We aren’t even being loud, Bell,” Octavia whines. She pretends to turn the television down like she always does, and then continues her conversation with Niylah.

Bellamy lingers in the doorway, but he doesn’t say anything else to Octavia. He’s looking at Clarke, letting his dark eyes roam over her like they did last time she came to a sleepover. That time, he was a little drunk and slid his hand over Clarke’s sleep shorts when he joined all the girls for a movie. But Octavia is mad at him tonight for some reason, so Clarke doubts she’ll get her chance to snuggle up to him under the blanket again.

He slips into the kitchen, and her heart sinks.

“Go talk to your boyfriend,” Harper whispers into her ear, making Clarke blush.

“He’s not my boyfriend. Now shut up before Octavia hears,” Clarke warns.

“Are you guys talking about your crush on my brother?” Octavia giggles, and Clarke sinks into the couch.

“No!” But Octavia has that look in her eye that says she isn’t gonna let this go. So, Clarke says, “Hey, did Lincoln ever text you back?”

Octavia crawls over Harper to slap a hand over Clarke’s mouth before Bellamy can hear. The last thing she wants is for Bellamy to overhear that his fifteen-year-old sister keeps fooling around with a nineteen-year-old college drop out. Clarke raises her eyebrows defiantly, a clear warning that Octavia should shut up about her crush on Bellamy.

“Did you guys hear about Ms. Diyoza?” Octavia changes the subject, and Clarke lets out a sigh of relief. The rest of the girls gossip about Diyoza’s pregnancy. The whole school’s convinced that she’s been sleeping with Coach McCreary. But Clarke’s attention goes back toward the kitchen.

She waits until her friends are arguing over whether or not McCreary is hot before slipping out of the living room. Bellamy’s at the stove, fixing mac n’ cheese.

“Hey, Bell,” she whispers, checking behind her to make sure no one is watching before walking up to him.

He looks over his shoulder and smirks. “Hey, Princess.” She leans against the counter while he stirs, and her heart skips a beat when he sets the wooden spoon to the side and turns to face her. His fingers tug at the hem of her lacy cami, a dark smile on his face. “This new?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you buy it to wear for a boyfriend?” he asks, and Clarke bites down on her bottom lip. His fingers trail up her stomach. It’s a featherlight touch, really. But when his middle finger grazes her nipple, her breath catches. “Or did you buy it so you could wear it for me?”

“No,” she lies, sticking her chin up high.

Bellamy glances over his shoulder before engulfing her breast with his hand, giving it a firm, rough squeeze. “You sure? Because I really like it, Princess,” he whispers, keeping his voice low and gravelly. He keeps eye contact as he kneads her breast, and she can’t bring herself to look away. There’s just something about how he looks at her. Or maybe how he touches her. She just feels frozen and helpless, unable to get away even if she wanted to.

“Okay, maybe I did.” His smirk grows as he tugs the fabric down to expose her breast.

“Good,” he growls as he gropes her uncovered tit. “I like it when you dress up for me.” Her blush creeps up her neck, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He’s too busy pinching her nipple between his calloused fingers to see how embarrassed she is that he knows she dresses up just for him. He’s probably known ever since his graduation day two years ago when he told her she looked nice. Clarke beamed for the rest of the day and went to sleep that night imagining their wedding day.

Looking back, Clarke knows how childish that all was. Bellamy was just being nice to his sister’s friend. But now, she’s all grown up now. She’s kissed boys, even let one touch her under the shirt. Clarke isn’t a kid anymore. And she thinks Bellamy knows that now.

“Where are you sleeping tonight?” he asks, all casual. He switches hands so he can use the other to stir the macaroni, but he doesn’t miss a beat as his fingers trace circles around her nipple.

“Probably on the floor. Octavia and Niylah called dibs on the couch.”

“Poor thing.” He sets the spoon down again and checks over his shoulder. When he turns back to look at her, there’s this look in his eyes that makes something warm pool in her belly. Bellamy takes a step towards her, letting his body trap her between him and the counter. He whispers right into her ear, “If you want, you can wait until everyone else passes out and then come sleep in my bed.” His breath is hot against her ear.

“Really?”

Bellamy’s other hand reaches up and pushes her hair behind her ear. “Can’t let my Princess sleep on the floor, can I?” he smirks.

“Okay, yeah,” she stutters out, ducking her head.

He pulls the fabric of her cami up again, covering her breast. When he pulls off her, Clarke opens her mouth to protest, but he just nudges her back to the slumber party.

 

* * *

 

Raven is the last one to fall asleep, and as soon as Clarke hears her snore, she creeps up the stairs and heads to Bellamy’s room. The door is already partially open, so she pushes it the rest of the way. Bellamy’s already lying in bed, shirtless, and doing something on his laptop.

“Lock the door behind you, Princess.” Clarke looks around his messy room, wondering when she came in here last. The décor hasn’t changed much, but the piles of clothes on the floor and chair are new. But now that Bellamy is an adult working two jobs, he probably doesn’t have much time to clean. “Wanna watch a movie with me?”

“Sure.” Clarke plops down on the bed beside him, and Bellamy nudges her to lie on her side and places the laptop in front of her. He leans in close, his entire body pressing against her from behind.

“This good?” His fingers tickle her side before she can answer, and as she squirms, he pulls her tighter against him. Bellamy’s mouth hovers over her ear, fanning his hot breath out on her skin.

The movie he picks is an older one she hasn’t seen before, maybe from the eighties based on the quality. The main actress is some busty blonde she doesn’t know, but then again, the oldest movies she watches are from the nineties.

Bellamy cups her breast again, making it hard for Clarke to pay attention. But it feels so good how he grabs and plucks at her nipples, much better than Finn ever felt. And he starts breathing against her neck, which she never thought could feel so good.

Finally, another actor comes on screen. Some tall guy with dark hair who brings her a drink. The acting is kind of terrible. Both of them overact every single line, and the actress keeps pressing out her breasts as if that somehow distracts from the bad script and weak performance.

Clarke is about to ask where Bellamy even found this movie when the actress unzips the back of her dress and lets it fall to the floor, revealing that she isn’t wearing anything underneath. Not even a second passes before the man pulls her into his arms and begins kissing her hard and dirty.

“Is this… Bellamy, is this porn?” Clarke stutters out. She’s never watched porn before, though she knows a few people she has. Harper said she accidentally saw it once, and that Murphy kid at school definitely watches a lot of it. But the most Clarke has ever seen is an anatomical drawing in the back of her biology textbook.

“Yeah,” he says into her neck, sending a chill up her spine. “You ever watch porn?” Clarke shakes her head. “Don’t worry. I think you’ll like it.”

When she looks back up at the laptop screen, the man is kissing down her chest, running his tongue all over her pale skin. Clarke presses her thighs together as he takes her nipple into his mouth. It’s hard not to imagine Bellamy doing that to her when he’s plucking at her nipple.

As it goes on, Clarke feels something warm and hard pressing against her ass. When she looks over her shoulder up at Bellamy, there is this dark grin on his face. “You feel that, Princess?” She nods weakly. “Wanna touch it?”

Before she can answer, Bellamy lies on his back and maneuvers Clarke so she’s facing him. His hand guides hers to the bulge in his boxers. “Oh,” she whispers. He’s big. Not that she has much to compare him to, but this feels way too big. Bellamy moves her hand up and down his length through the fabric, grunting quietly.

“That’s it, Princess.” He moves his hand away, leaving Clarke to fumble around with his cock. She’s pretty sure she isn’t doing this right, but he seems to like it anyway. He rocks against her hand and keeps breathing all jagged.

A really exaggerated moan cries out from the laptop, and Bellamy leans over to slam it shut. “I thought you wanted to watch that.”

“You’re prettier to look at,” he grins before kissing her cheek, and a smile tugs at Clarke’s lips. “Why don’t you take this off, huh?” Bellamy pulls at her cami. Her hands shake a little as she tugs at the hem. “It’s okay, baby. I know you wanna show me those pretty tits.”

The cold of the room hits her bare chest as soon as her shirt is off. But then Bellamy’s warm hands grab her breasts, and she lets out a soft moan. When Finn tried to do this to her, it was so gentle and soft. Bellamy tugs and squeezes at her, hurting her a little, but she kind of likes the growls falling off his lips and the dark look in his eyes even if it’s a bit scary. It’s like he wants to devour her.

“They’ve gotten so big.” He noticed that her boobs were bigger… which means he’s been paying attention to her. Clarke arches her back, pressing her chest farther out. She preens under his gaze, and that warm feeling pooling in her belly only grows.

Bellamy leans forward and kisses just an inch away from her nipple, just like the guy in the movie did. But instead of moaning, a surprised squeak escapes the back of her throat because his teeth bite into her skin. Before she can jump back, Bellamy’s arms wrap around her, holding her in place.

“Yeah, you like it a little painful, don’t you?” he murmurs before biting her again, this time just outside her areola. His dark eyes flicker up to meet hers as his lips engulf her nipple. Clarke nods frantically even though she isn’t sure she likes the painful stuff. But she likes Bellamy, so maybe she could like this other stuff too. “I know you do, Princess,” he says after pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her nipple. That Clarke definitely likes.

But then he gives it a sharp suck, and Clarke has to slap a hand over her mouth to keep from making too much noise. His mouth is relentless and punishing. It feels so good on her skin one second and then hurts the next, making it hard to tell if she likes it or if it aches too much.

Bellamy pushes her so that she falls on her back before crawling on top of her. Clarke shivers, in excitement or in fear she isn’t quite sure. But it feels really good having his weight on top of her. And when she spreads her legs so his body can rest between them, he calls her his good girl. She really likes that.

His mouth seizes her other breast while his hand gropes at the other. She can feel his cock rubbing between her legs, and that feels better than when he was grinding against her ass. Clarke lifts her hips a bit to meet him, and it feels so much better when she does that. Each time their bodies meet, there’s a tingle between her legs and Bellamy makes this grunting noise that makes her stomach flip.

“Christ,” he mutters, abandoning her tit to run his hand down her stomach. His mouth kisses between her breasts as she feels his hands tugging at her shorts.

“What are you doing?”

He tugs the fabric of her shorts and panties aside, and Clarke stiffens. “This’ll feel good,” is all he tells her before she feels skin rubbing against her slit.

Clarke once tried touching herself there. Raven told her about it at school, and she figured she might as well try. But Clarke couldn’t figure out where she was supposed to touch to get that feeling Raven described. Frankly, she was pretty sure Raven made it all up. After all, Finn and his friends kept saying that girls couldn’t orgasm, and if Clarke couldn’t figure out how to do it, then it’s probably true.

But then, Bellamy’s fingers push past her folds and start stroking her in small circles, and her head falls back. “Oh,” she chokes out.

“That’s it,” he whispers into her neck. She closes her eyes and focuses only on his fingers rubbing her and his heavy breathing against her throat. Clarke could feel something building inside of her, something warm and strange, but she definitely likes it.

But then something big prods into her and her eyes jerk open. The stretch burns.

“Shit, you’re tight.” He stops touching her and brings his fingers into his mouth. When he releases them with a lewd pop, Clarke stiffens. “Relax, Princess.” She bites down hard on her bottom lip as he presses his finger back into her. The stretch is still there, but a little easier this time. He draws it out before pushing it back inside, and Clarke can hear a wet, slick sound coming from down there each time he does it. She squirms a little, embarrassed, but Bellamy’s weight keeps her in place.

It doesn’t hurt anymore, but it doesn’t feel good like when he rubbed her earlier. Clarke moans a little anyway, trying to sound like that girl from the movie, and she thinks Bellamy likes it when she does that.

He presses a second finger in and the pain comes back. Tears prick in her eyes. Clarke cries out for less than a second before Bellamy silences her by kissing her. His mouth is hard and hot against hers, and his tongue dives in just as fiercely as his fingers do.  She tries to ignore the painful stretch so she can enjoy their first kiss, and slowly, the stretch begins to fade away.

“You like this?”

“Yeah.” It’s mostly the truth. She likes the way he presses wet, breathless kisses all over her cheeks and chin. And she likes being in here with him. “Could you, uh, do that other thing again?”

“What other thing?”

“When you were rubbing me with your fingers,” she whispers, feeling embarrassed just saying it.

“You mean when I was touching your clit?” he smirks, and it just sounds so filthy falling off his lips.

“Yeah.”

“Say it, Princess. Ask me nicely.” Her blush feels blotchy, covering her cheeks and neck, maybe even her chest.

“Please, will you rub my clit?” she asks, her voice sounding higher than normal.

“Fuck,” he growls, burying his face back into her neck. His fingers slip out of her, and she kind of misses them now. Like she was full before, and now she’s all empty. But then his fingers find her clit and a real moan falls off her lips this time. She bucks into his hand, trying to get more. Each time she does, he chuckles a little and holds her down. “Greedy little thing. You want to come, don’t you?”

“Uh huh.” Though she isn’t sure she knows how.

“You let anyone else do this to you?”

“No.”

“Good,” he growls.

It, whatever it is, starts building again. Bellamy mouths at her jaw and his fingers flick her clit fast and hard. The feeling is right there, so close. Her body feels like it’s vibrating as the light warmth floods her.

“Bell,” she whimpers.

“That’s it, Princess.”

When she lets go, all she’s aware of is Bellamy’s hand covering her mouth to muffle her whine. Everything else just fades away for a moment, leaving her resting in a warm, content glow.

But then she feels Bellamy’s hands leave her. When she looks up, Bellamy is tugging his boxers off, and his thick cock springs to life. She hasn’t actually seen one before. He shut his laptop before she ever got to see the actor’s dick, and Clarke has stumbled onto a picture or two in encyclopedias and text books. But this is a real life cock, a hard, almost red looking one.

He catches her staring at it and smirks. “It’s big, huh?” he asks as he runs his hand up it. “We’re gonna have to get it all wet first or else it’ll hurt like my fingers did.” Clarke knits her brows, wondering what he means by that. But before she can ask, he climbs onto the bed and straddles her stomach, letting his cock jut out towards her face. “Give it a little kiss, Princess.”

She thinks he’s joking. But instead of laughing, he just nudges his cock closer to her face. She pecks the tip and scowls to find that it’s wet and sticky somehow. When she tries to pull her head back, Bellamy holds it in place and bumps his dick against her closed lips.

“Open that pretty mouth, baby.”

Niylah said there is an eleventh grader who does this with her boyfriend, but Clarke had been pretty sure either Niylah made it up or that girl did. Clarke probably should have asked Octavia if blow jobs were a real thing people did since she’s her one friend that has actually seen a dick before, but Clarke was too embarrassed to.

She complies, parting her lips just a little. Bellamy’s grip on her face tightens as he pushes his cock into her mouth. It only gets part of the way in before she gags. He pulls out immediately, and Clarke wipes away the tears that snuck down her cheeks. But as soon as she catches her breath, he’s pressing his dick between her lips again.

“You’re doing so good,” he tells her, and so she tries to take more of him into her mouth this time. He keeps telling her how hot she looks or how good she is while he thrusts his dick into her mouth just like his fingers had thrusted into her pussy.

She gags again when he hits the back of her throat, her saliva spilling down her chin and throat. He pulls out for a final time and Clarke sucks in a deep breath.

Bellamy readjusts above her, no longer straddling her waist but instead sitting up next to her. His fingers tug at the waistband of her sleep shorts, so Clarke lifts her hips for him. It hits her as soon as he discards her shorts and panties onto the carpet that she is naked in front of him.

“Are we going to do it?” The question sounds wrong as soon as it’s off her lips. Like she isn’t saying it right or that she isn’t supposed to ask at all. She should probably just know. Just like she should have known blow jobs were real and that the thing Bellamy rubbed was called a clit. And he’s giving her this strange look, like he’s about to pat the top of her head and tell her what a good kid she is. That’s what he used to do when Clarke would try to flirt with him. Tonight feels like the first time he’s ever seen her as anything more than his kid sister’s friend, and Clarke doesn’t want to do anything to screw that up.

“Do what?” he smirks. He climbs over her again, resting his body between her legs.

“You know.” Her cheeks burn as she averts her gaze.

“Say it, Princess.”

“Fuck,” she whispers, tasting that word on her tongue.

“Yeah, Clarke. We’re gonna fuck.” The word sounds better falling off his lips. Less like a kid trying out a new word and more like a man who says it all the time.

She should ask him about condoms. That’s what her mom always tells her when they talk about safe sex. But then Clarke remembers that Murphy guy saying it feels better without a condom. She’s kicking herself for not knowing more about this stuff, but then she remembers that she’s with Bellamy. He’s twenty-one. He’s probably done this a bunch of times, so he knows what to do. Just like he’s known what to do all night. He’ll take care of Clarke, so she has nothing to worry about.

She watches to see if he puts one on, but he never does. Guess Murphy was right.

His cock bumps against her clit while he settles over her, and a little squeak comes out of her mouth. He smiles a little but stays focused on lining up his cock. She can feel the heat hovering by her entrance, barely touching where Bellamy had just stretched her out with her fingers.

Clarke fists the sheets as his cock slips past the soft lips of her cunt. She assumed the point of him sticking his fingers into her was to get her ready for this, but it still hurts. Bellamy’s too big.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he hisses.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, no,” he chokes out as he pushes even farther into her. Clarke grits her teeth, trying to get through it. “Tight is good, baby. It’s so fucking good.”

“Oh.” He starts to pull out, and Clarke lets out a relieved sigh. For some reason, he looks down to where they’re joined and grins. “What?”

“You really are a good girl, huh?” he grunts before pushing back into her. Clarke has no idea what that’s supposed to mean, but she nods anyway. “Saving this tight virgin cunt for me, yeah?”

Before she can answer, Bellamy kisses her all hard and rough like before. His lips match the same punishing pace as his cock, and Clarke can hardly catch her breath between frantic kisses. It’s a nice distraction from the pain between her legs, keeps her happy and sated until the stretch begins to fade and she starts feeling that tingling build again.

Clarke lets go of the sheets and wraps her arms around him. Her hands trace over his back muscles and shoulders before settling in his hair. When she accidentally pulls it, Bellamy’s hips stutter and he growls into her mouth, so she thinks he likes it. She keeps pulling at it, and he gets rougher with her. Gropes her tits again, fucks into her faster, bites down on her bottom lip. It’s so animalistic and hungry, which should scare her. And it kind of does, but she likes it too. It’s like he can’t control himself around her… that he wants her that bad.

“Gonna come soon,” he warns. “Think you can come again for me?”

“Maybe. Can you do that thing again?”

“Say it.”

“Rub my clit,” she whispers, averting her eyes as she says it. It still sounds so filthy.

“Fuck,” he hisses, and Clarke swears she can feel his cock twitch inside her. Bellamy reaches between their bodies, and Clarke moans as soon as his thumb grazes her clit. He rubs just like he did before, but this time faster. The climb doesn’t take as long this time. She’s so overwhelmed by his cock hitting this one spot inside her and the way his thumb presses on her clit that it only takes minutes for her to latch onto that feeling again, letting the wave wash over her.

She can faintly hear his warning that he’s coming, but she’s too far gone to really register much besides the wet slaps of skin and the lewd phrases falling off his lips. Warmth fills her tight cunt as Bellamy huffs and grunts against her throat.

Lying there, she feels spent. But in a good way. Like she just had a great workout kind of way. Her muscles ache and she wants to sleep, but she’s okay with the ache.

When he pulls out, she can feel his cum spilling out of her. Dazed, Clarke looks up at Bellamy, who is watching it drizzle out. She tries to move her legs closer together, but it hurts too bad.

“Careful,” he whispers, letting his hand stroke up her thigh. “You’re gonna be a little sore. And you’re bleeding a little too.” Before Clarke could get too upset, he reassures, “That’s normal.”

Clarke winces as she turns onto her side, and Bellamy gathers her up in his arms. She rests her head on his chest, which feels all sweaty now, and peers up at him. “So, does this make me like your girlfriend now?” she asks.

He laughs, and Clarke furrows her brows. It’s a legitimate question. They just had sex, so they had to be something. “Do you want to be my girlfriend, Princess?” His voice is teasing, and Clarke feels stupid for asking.

“Yeah, but it’s whatever.” She presses her forehead into his skin so he doesn’t see her pouting and make fun of her for it.

“Okay. But it has to be a secret. No telling anyone, especially the girls downstairs. I could get in trouble for this.” Clarke hadn’t thought of that. But it’s not like he’s that much older than her. And she’s mature for her age anyway.  “Deal?”

“Deal.” Clarke leans up for a kiss, and he laughs again, though she doesn’t know why.


End file.
